“You better leave, Mr. Gagnon.” Jordan’s voice sounded polite, but there was no room for argument in his tone. He stared Gagnon down and never broke his gaze. Beck looked on, and affection warmed the pit of his stomach.
Gagnon looked them both over, disdain still on his face. Then he gave a sniff and turned. “You should take me up on my offer while it’s good. Won’t last forever,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Fucking asshole,” Beck bit out and shoved a shaking hand through his hair. He’d made his position clear, so why couldn’t the fucker leave him alone?
“You okay?” Jordan’s voice was quiet, and he laid a hand on Beck’s arm.
Beck nodded and pushed the dread aside. “Just angry. How dare he come over here and speak to me like that?”
“He’s an asshole, like you said.” Jordan squeezed his arm, cocked his head to the side, and studied Beck. “You don’t think what he said was a threat, do you?”